


He Who Laughs Last...

by pinkyapples



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkyapples/pseuds/pinkyapples
Summary: Laughs Loudest.Or How Walt bested his father. Or hoped to. Or something along those lines.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	He Who Laughs Last...

**Author's Note:**

> Popped into my head after seeing film. It made sense as a dream and Walt seems to me just smarmy enough to do so.  
> Unbeta'd, plotholes galore, as said made more sense as half-arsed dream. 2

Walt is the first one through the door following Ransom's arrest. He's lived a lifetime of dramatic posing from the library balcony to be bothered. Or perhaps it's just his near sobriety that pushes him past the posers in the forecourt and through the front doors.

Besides he wanted to be packed and out of this godforsaken house before Marta decided "house and contents included their personal room's contents". 

Walt isn't a sociable person. He knows this. Knows that when he's under stress he becomes agitated. He knows approaching Marta by himself was seen by her as a threat. He didn't percieve it to be but it answered the only question valid.

Would she be willing to negotiate with the family? 

Obviously not. So Walt sat on the edge of his bed. Took up the photo from the bedside table that showed his mother and him aged nine in front of a rundown boat shed. 

It was the last family holiday taken before their mother took ill. Jim and Linda were teenagers and had little interest in fishing. Harlan was writing and his main character was an old sea captain. He'd hired a house by the bay which had boat shed. 

For Walt, that was when he knew he wanted to be a writer. Just like his father. Jim and Linda mocked him but his mother encouraged him to ask his father. 

Harlan patted his son on the head, told him to read, research and read some more before sending him away from the boatshed he'd commandeered as writing quarters. 

For the duration of the summer Walt would shadow his father following his advice. When they left he told both parents that he was going to buy a boatshed just like the one they'd stayed in and write stories that made people happy. 

Harlan, Jim and Linda ridiculed him. His mother didn't. When she died,she left her children each 10,000 dollars and Walt the name of the house rented and the real estate agent's adress. 

Walt graduated college and interned with Barns & Noble publishing before Harlen proposed setting up Blood Like Wine with Walt as his publisher. 

"The Coxsman Cometh" was their first novel and Walt thought he'd finally won his father's approval. He soon realised that working with, or rather, for his father meant being his underpaid proof-reader and secretary for the ever growing "Harlan Thrombey" fan club. 

"Read, research and answer that's your job Walt". Variations of this he's heard his whole life, since that long ago summer as a nine year old.

And so he did as his father told him to do. 

Which is how he knows Harlan has stolen part if not whole sections of manuscripts sent to him by fans desperately hoping for some sort of guidance. Believing, incorrectly that Harlan the man was morally upstanding the way his two best loved detectives were. 

Walt would dutifully read the manuscripts sent. Most were dreadful and belonged on fan service forums only. But he edited them and returned them with a polite letter declining publication and a suggestion for who might publish. 

Occassionally, a genuinely good story would cross his desk. He would show them to his father, who would take them, read them and take out his notebook. He'd write a bit, read a bit and write some more. Then hand the script back to Walt with an offhand remark about it showing potential but needing more work. 

Walt would forward those script to his old mentor at Barns & Noble. When they were published he told his father, who simply replied that his version would be better. It was. If only because Harlan was the better known author and the plot differed just enough to avoid plagerism lawsuits. 

Walt made sure to copy every manuscript that crossed his desk and whenever Harlan finished a notebook he'd copy those as well before cataloging the original. 

Walt whiled away thirty something years keeping the Great Harlan Thrombey's secrets in the ill founded assumption he would be rewarded. 

He hadn't. So the obvious choice for him now was to expose the man. 

Walt shuddered out of his reverie at the sound of the door being shaken and someone shouting. 

"I am packing my belongings. Go away Marta. Or if that is you Donna or Jacob, do the same. Either way. Get Lost." he shouted. There was more rattling of the door then footsteps away down the hall. 

Walt moved to the closet, hapazadly through the contents on the bed and tapped at the center back panal. A hidden opening appeared and sliding the panal open he stepped through to the room behind. 

Whether or not Harlan knew of this panic room, Walt neither knew nor at that moment cared. It was accessed via his room, ergo, his personal property. Plus Harlan had scribbled such to shut him up during one of there many arguements. He had that scrap of paper and the original notebook to back that claim up. 

He pulled down several well used packing boxes and began dismantling the latest collection of "Secrets The Great Harlan Thrombey Kept". He'd need a better title for the eventual tell all book and television speciel.

He could maybe collaborate with one of the more successful authors from amongst his father's former fans. He had struck up a correspondance friendship with several and though the written format had changed to digital they were as near to real friendship as Walt would ever Come. He wondered if that would change once he revealed his relationship to Harlan. 

Or he could simply use the money he had earnt from writing Harlequin romance. It had been a challenge from one of his "penpals" for want of a better name. So Walt had used that one idealic summer as a child and conjurred a romantic rewrite of his and Donna's first meeting through to marriage.

He framed the acceptance letter from Harlequin. He was offered a standard three book contract and he fulfilled that by writing fantastical reworkings of his elder siblings marriage. 

Walt doubted he was sober that year. Still Raleigh Harlowe served a purpose and those earnings, together with his mother's inheritence meant he now owned that house with the boat shed. 

He owned a storage unit yard as well. Convenient when needing somewhere to "store/hide" Secrets The Great Harlan Thrombey Kept". 

Panic room packed, checked and locked. Walt Found suitcases and packed up his wardrobe. A vintage travelling wardrobe would hold the rest of his belongings. 

He sat upon the bed and took out his personal mobile. Flipping it open he rang his realtor. There were tennants at the house so he needed somewhere to stay.

If he specified a bungalow, Donna and Jacob would take up his parents-in-law offer to live with them. Frankly, all three of their lives would probably improve from living apart. 

By the time he had called the realtor, a removal company and his inlaws it was well past midnight. 

He left his room to see what his wife and son were up to via the Jack N'Jill bathroom adjacent his room. There was an attempt at packing by both before lethagy had taken hold and both fell asleep. 

When Jacob returned to school. Walt would suggest a retreat for Donna, or something. He, himself needed to be sober if he was going to succeed suing his father's estate. He couldn't achieve that if his wife and son were around. 

Well, he could and really the only time he wasn't was confronting his father. That pattern had been set and the family believed it. That would work in his favour. 

Yes. It was decided. He would find out the truth of Harlan's death at Ransom's trial. Drop a few salacious tidbits about Harlan's "manipulation" of Marta and her mother. 

That should allow him the time needed to plan how to irritate, alarm and eventually burn the hallowed name of author Harlan Thrombey. 

Or he could just write a tell all book and let the worms come out from the woodwork. He'd think on it some more tomorrow. 


End file.
